


smoke

by 5674l



Series: in the mud or moonlight, I know you [8]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I... don't actually know, M/M, Smut, fluff?, idk i mean they aren't pointing guns at each other, though there is a cane in a very non threatening way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:53:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29927505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5674l/pseuds/5674l
Summary: His nerves were frayed at the edges and Alfie seemed intent on making them fucking burn.(Part of a larger AU.)
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Series: in the mud or moonlight, I know you [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137518
Comments: 12
Kudos: 36





	1. blue skies, grey skies, black and full of smoke, same difference

**Author's Note:**

> I actually don't know what this is... I just needed to move this along. Also for the purposes of timing, the Derby happened in May and this is sometime in the beginning of December. Not that it matters, I just care.

“Morning Alfie.”

He didn’t look at him as he said it, just gazed into the inky depths of the water. He should get on that boat now, say goodbye. Go back to Birmingham.

The beginnings of winter were arriving; there was a chill that had managed to settle in. The smoke was especially opaque, when Alfie had arrived he’d looked like a conjuring. Like one of Polly’s visions. Tommy realised he hadn’t actually seen him in such cold light before. He’d always been lit by the bakery or by fucking fireplaces and the summer had cast a warm glow on him. His hair would glint gold. 

“Hello, treacle.” 

Tommy had been splitting his time between Birmingham and London for a good fucking what was it? Five months? But something had come up in Birmingham. It had been a month since he’d seen Alfie. Some part of him wondered why the fuck it felt like more.

He’d only come to London to see Grace. It was cursory, stilted, awkward. The doctor’s appointment had gone well, she’d said. Clive had been pleased. 

They hadn’t fucking spoken to each other until he invited her to Ada’s, for tea. Seemed like the polite thing to do and they found common ground in watching Karl babble. He’d have a child soon. Or Clive would. Either way, the child would be happy. Like Karl. He hadn’t known why, exactly, it was less awkward with Ada there even though Grace had given up Freddie. Ada managed not to be hostile. He couldn’t even speak.

“So you came all the way to London and you didn’t even say hello?”

“Did you want to see me that badly, Alfie? Could’ve come to Birmingham.”

“Sweetie, if you keep wearing me down I might actually consider it, just for you, but I just could not allow myself the humiliation of stepping into that shithole, could I?”

Tommy felt the sudden need to explain. Didn’t know why. He looked down into the depths of water and felt a reprieve from Alfie’s eyes. Didn’t know why he spoke at such sheer fucking volume about Tommy’s when his own could probably halt fucking God for all they burned sometimes. Fuck, what was he even saying?

“I had business to deal with. And I still have to deal with it, Alfie, this whole fucking enterprise-”

“I know, sweetie, not to worry, don’t gotta explain yourself to me. Believe it or not, yeah, I myself also gotta deal with shit. My men aren’t as fucking incompetent as yours,” Tommy scoffed, “But they do try their best to defeat your men in that aspect. I worry, you know, that one day they might fucking succeed and that my various endeavours will burn around me. It’s a real fucking problem, Tommy.”

“Alfie, I came to London-”

“Because of your woman.”

“She’s not my woman.”

“Right, right. Well, either way, my men saw her leaving a fucking doctor’s office so I can only assume even if she is not yours, that kid inside of her is.” So he knew.

“Might be.” He hadn’t told anyone that he was uncertain. Polly took it as an absolute, so did Ada. He didn’t tell them she’d come to see a fertility doctor and that her and her husband were fucking trying.

“Looks like you got yourself in a right mess, Tommy.”

“Yeah.”

“Mm, you’re still off in your own head I see. Tommy, if you have business to deal with right now then why aren’t you off fucking dealing with it? What is so fucking fascinating about this water that you have to glare into it, hm? And why did you ask me to meet you here if you have things to do?”

“Wanted to see if you could be summoned, Alfie. If the only reason you refused to come to Birmingham is because it was Birmingham and not because it was me asking.”

“And are you satisfied? With the answer, mate.”

“Well, now I know you’d come when I call for help and also, without reason.”

“You underestimate your pull, sweetie. Your… seduction. Why else would a perfectly respectable woman, right, a perfectly respectable woman like, Grace, was it? Yeah, why would she give up a good man, money, fucking security, for you. A gangster, born in a house with walls thin as fucking paper, when by all fucking accounts she comes from a rich family.”

Tommy decided now was a good time to look at Alfie. Didn’t let an emotion pass across his face.

“What business is Grace of yours? Must be something for you to send men after her.”

“I will not be accused, right, of sending anyone after her. My men saw her and then saw you with her because she went to a doctor, right, in my fucking domain. Jewish doctor. She’s got good taste. At least in doctors, not so much her affairs.”

“What does that say about you?”

“S’not the same, she knows you as a gangster and I know you as a little boy who became a pretty man and clawed his way to where he is, don’t I? What it says, mate, about me, is that I appreciate the beautiful and that Grace lacks sense. To be fair, I do not know, right, if I would do the same in her position, but I am not some rich fucking gentile and therefore I can observe her, giving up comforts for fucking Birmingham.”

Tommy continued to look Alfie in the eyes. Didn’t know what he was feeling, something had sunk in him when he first looked Alfie. Jesus fucking Christ had he missed him?

“She’s giving nothing up, Alfie. And I wasn’t even born in a house with paper-thin walls.”

“No?”

“No. Was born on this boat.”

“Is that right? Fuck me, is that why you’re always on the move then, yeah? Born in the water so you’re always wandering?”

“You’ve never seen me on any sort of move.”

Alfie grinned and, briefly, Tommy wondered if he was going to mention the ways in which Alfie _had_ moved him around. It’d be a fucking embarrassment, somehow worse in the cold morning air. It was too open. Fuck, where was Curly? Wandering around somewhere. Nowhere near here though.

“I’ve met many fucking men, Tommy, as will you when you reach my age,” He could not be more than a few years older than him, for all he tried to make himself older with his beard, “And let me tell you something, mate, I have never, right, met someone who, like you, stays so utterly fucking still and yet still manages to have the look of a man being fucking hunted. Like your horses, ain’t you? Those fucking creatures, look you dead in the eyes and you can’t help but think, fuck, he could just rear his head back and kick me to fucking death. And they’re prey, too. Fucking ridiculous.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow at Alfie’s theatrics, more in something like exasperation rather than shock. He wanted him to keep quiet.

“If this is your way of saying I look ready to attack, Alfie, then I have to say it’s a bit rich, eh? You nearly killed a man the second time I saw you. Because someone made a joke.”

Alfie drew slightly closer with something close to a grin. Tommy remembered why he had looked away from him in the first place as Alfie came to a stop near his shoulder, just behind him. He didn’t want to look down, give Alfie some idea about how he felt nervous when he wasn’t. But the angle meant that his neck was turned and one side of it was exposed and he could feel the cold against it and goosebumps rising at the back of his neck. That had to be the reason for them.

Alfie wasn’t shying away from him either, just standing there, solid, immovable. The position wasn’t damning, but Tommy suddenly burned at the thought of someone discovering them stood like this. With Alfie behind him, so close he could feel his fucking breath. 

“I don’t tolerate disrespect, Tommy, yeah? That’s all. And I am not talking about being ready to jump, more so your tendency to run, eh? To disappear. S’what horses do, they fucking jolt. You gonna run now?”

“I’ve got nothing to run away from.”

“Mm. Yeah, alright sweetie. Tell me about your boat then.”

Alfie moved away from him and Tommy remembered that he’d promised himself to go to Birmingham right fucking now. Couldn’t exactly leave now. Couldn’t run.

“What’s there to say, Alfie? The January has been in my family since before I was born and it has been used for many a fucking sin.”

“Was it stolen, d’you think?”

“Probably.” Alfie climbed onto the deck and watched Tommy as he brought a cigarette to his lip.

“None of that mate, just ‘cause Birmingham is polluted don’t mean you should corrupt London as well.”

Tommy just stared at him and then brought up his match.

Alfie grumbled under his breath at that but Tommy figured he could manage. 

“Alfie.”

“Hm?”

“Reckon the boat is corrupted as well? Being stolen.”

“Tell you what, mate, your birth probably redeemed it an’ all.” Tommy got on the deck as well.

“I think it made it worse. Me being a gangster after all.”

“Your thinking is your worst and best trait, mate.” Alfie manoeuvred his cane so his hand was halfway down it and the handle came to rest underneath Tommy’s eye, and he was reminded, because he somehow managed to always forgot, who Alfie was. Just didn’t seem all that terrifying most of the time they were together. Most of it.

“Would you like to show me the inside?” Alfie didn’t press the cane onto his skin, just held it there. Tommy brought his own hand up to it hesitantly, didn’t know whether Alfie would let him move it away from his face. He tugged at it and Alfie just raised an eyebrow before drawing it back into himself, holding it without really using it, Tommy didn’t know why he even carried it. Maybe it was to scare people. Didn’t he have a fucking gun?

“Why are you interested?”

“Well, way I see it, you have seen my offices, my house,” mainly his fucking ceilings, “my town, and I, in refusing to taint my eyes with the view of your city, have given myself a disadvantage, and I will not be fucking handicapped, mate. I’d like to see your boat, is all. Call it curiosity.”

Tommy lifted the canvas to crouch into the space and ignored how Alfie crowded into the space behind him. He reached around to take the cigarette from his lips and threw it into the water. Bastard.

The two found themselves sat across from each other. Tommy could barely see for all it was light outside, they were shrouded in darkness and the one source of light was a too far away window. Despite that, Tommy felt he could breathe. No one was going to stumble in on them here. 

“You didn’t let me explain why I stopped coming to London in the first place.”

“You said you had business, sweetie.”

“Yeah, and I did, s’just-”

“S’just what?”

Tommy couldn’t explain the sheer fucking awkwardness. The conversation didn’t feel the way conversations with Alfie had tended to go the past few months. 

Alfie watched him think and he got out of his own head to look at him. His eyes couldn’t make out much but Alfie tilted his head and he could see the light bouncing off of one side of his face. His expression was inexplicable. Tommy fucking hated it, not being able to tell what was passing through Alfie’s head, mainly because the bastard could always read him just fine.

“Your explanations, Tommy, fucking worthless now, because you and I both know that whatever it was that drew you back into your family is not something you can tell me, eh?” No, he couldn’t. “And whatever it was, certainly didn’t tell me beforehand. Just let me wonder.”

“I didn’t uh,” his throat suddenly felt dry, “didn’t mean to. It was urgent. Besides, if I’d told you before what would’ve stopped you from trying to find out what it was and telling someone, eh?”

“Mm. Yeah, s’pose you’re right. Nothing would’ve stopped me.”

“Right.”

“S’the way of our world, Tommy. But, we find ourselves outside of our world now, don’t we? This boat certainly don’t feel like either of our, occupations, let’s call it.”

“Occupations seems like a stretch.”

“Mm, business certainly isn’t what occupies my mind most. Nor my time, actually,” What the fuck was _that_ supposed to mean? “But an occupation is the only way to describe it. Either way, this boat exists outside of our, our livings, yeah? S’freeing that. Nice. Always did like the peace.”

“Really?”

Alfie grinned at him slightly and bent forwards to look out the window. “Look at that. Remember when the skies were filled with smoke?” 

“They still are.”

“Nah, not here. It’s quiet. Do you like the peace, Tommy?”

Tommy paused. Alfie looked at him now, crouched over like he was, expression carefully questioning. He was so close. Fuck.

Tommy turned his head to look out the window and Alfie hummed. Alfie was still looking at him, he could feel it, but he just let his eyes fix themselves to the sky. 

“I think I do. I used to, definitely. Now I, I wonder if a man like me can have peace.” He didn’t know why he was admitting to that, wasn’t even a real confession. It just felt like it.

“Well, too much peace can be boring, can’t it? We were made for company, Tommy.”

Tommy turned and now they were both looking into each other’s eyes. Too close. “We?”

“Yeah, people, and for all our sins we are still seen as people.”

“Speak for yourself, Alfie, I’ve angered God too much.”

“Tsk, don’t be so fucking arrogant. You don’t have the ability to anger God at you. I on the other hand,” Tommy scoffed and Alfie smiled, “do, because I am very fucking able. But I am forgiven on account of being chosen as well as of course my wit and my overall intelligence-”

“That right?”

“Yeah, and you cannot anger any God in the first place because your eyes reflect his heavens, even when you aren’t looking at the sky. S’a gift.”

“Right.”

“Mm. And Tommy? You can have peace. This is peace. Right here. On your boat, your roots.”

Didn’t feel like fucking peace, his heart racing the way it was.

“Alfie.”

“Hm?”

Sometime in the middle of his little speech, Alfie had placed of his hands on Tommy’s thighs and it was enough to make blood start pounding in his ears because in the month since, it’s not like he’d fucking seen anyone else or something. No time for it. His nerves were frayed at the edges and Alfie seemed intent on making them fucking burn.

He didn’t move though, because Alfie was a bastard on the best of days, so it was up to Tommy to move, and he did, but Alfie found it in his heart to tilt forwards the slightest bit until their lips met. It was gentle. Tommy wondered if he’d be able to deepen it, just briefly, before he fucking heard footsteps and realised yeah, Alfie was fucking wrong, serves him fucking right, he had angered God, or at least someone.

“Tommy!” It was Curly, and he broke away from Alfie.

“Fuck.”

“Now now, don’t be dramatic. Come 'round mine, Tommy. I’ll be home today sometime ‘round nine, yeah? Nine. Here’s a key.”

Tommy looked at the key in his palm. He could ambush him with this. He wasn’t going to. But he could.

“I’ll be seeing you.”

No, he wasn’t going to fucking see him. He couldn't. He'd already wasted the morning away.

Before he could correct Alfie, he’d already disappeared and he could hear a muffled conversation.

“Tommy?”

He stepped out the boat and onto the solid ground with slightly unsteady feet.

“Tom, who’s this?”

“Not to worry, Curly. This is uh, this is Alfie, uh, Solomons that is, Alfie Solomons. I ship his rum and he wanted to see some of our boats.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Alfie nodded besides him, “Yeah, all in very good shape. Do I have you to thank for that, then?”

“Boats aren’t as easy as horses.”

“Mm. S’a wise man that likes horses, very wise.”

“Ah, no wonder our Tommy does business with you.” Curly gave a giggle and Alfie seemed fucking delighted and Tommy was tired of him making his family like him. Asides from Arthur. First Ada, now Curly, and if he got Polly to like him then some part of him wondered if his empire would crumble. Somehow. 

“Well, nice to meet you, but I do have to go now, else my employees will, well, they’ll stage some coup. I’ll be seeing you, Tommy.”

“Bye Mr Solomons!”

“Bye Curly.”

Alfie shook his hand and Curly looked so fucking pleased and Tommy wondered why it felt so fucking surreal as Alfie walked out of the yard, cane in hand, fading into a black shape before disappearing altogether.

“I like him Tom.” Jesus fucking Christ. “So, you wanted to go home then?”

Yeah.

“Something came up, Curly. Some business. I’ll be staying in London, at least for another night.”


	2. gambling men are a fucking hazard and they'll ruin you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfie comes back to his own house. That's all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nothing too big's happening here folks I just needed an outlet before I write what I actually wanted to write in the next chapter

Fuck Alfie for making him wait like this.

He’d been left at the shipyard, having foolishly decided that yes, he was going to listen to him, partly because Alfie had given him what was probably the only key to the house and would have been locked outside without it and then wreaked havoc on whatever poor passer-by there was, not that Tommy cared, and the other part was, well, it just was.

He’d contemplated going to Ada’s but she’d ask about Grace. He wouldn’t usually answer, he wasn’t one to talk about his… whatever Grace was to him. Someone he loved? Now though, not talking about her felt like a statement. He didn’t know why, but he’d been convinced by some part of himself, and he decided yeah, he was gonna trust his own judgement. He hadn’t heard anyone offering their own advice, certainly not advice better than his own, and he wouldn’t have listened either way so yeah. He wasn’t going to go to Ada’s.

He considered just walking the streets but that felt like asking for something. They’d managed to sweep up most of the London businesses, and the rest he had a truce with. He didn’t trust that there wasn’t someone hostile lurking.

The front door slammed shut behind him and the sound was oddly final. Too fucking loud as well, though he knew that’s just because Alfie’s house set him on edge. Anything associated with Alfie put him on edge. He’d managed just fine to conduct business in the Garrison and he’d done some of it with John and Arthur and fuck knows the two of them could talk enough to bring down walls.

Did Alfie have alcohol? No, of course he fucking didn’t, the man ran a fucking distillery but fuck if he’d bring alcohol into his home. Jesus fucking Christ. He needed to do something.

Alfie had an ashtray. Since fucking when? It was just sat there, on the side table, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and it’s not like Alfie smoked. He picked it up and it was one of the nice decorative ones, and it was fucking blue. Alfie did have nice taste sometimes, not that Tommy was going to fucking tell him. His house was far too fucking full of his fucking items though, ugly and beautiful. They’d accidentally broken one when, well, doesn’t fucking matter but they’d broken one and Tommy had been glad to see it go because it was the one thing that didn’t match the rest of the shit on the case. Good fucking riddance.

Fuck, he needed to find something to do.

-

He heard the door opening before he heard Alfie’s footsteps.

“Hello Tommy.” Alfie eyed him where he was on his armchair and didn’t comment about him only wearing his undershirt and trousers.

“Hello Alfie.” There were God knows how many stubs in the ashtray, may as well see some use even though it was pretty. 

“You been here all day then?”

“Mm. Had work to do. Figured I may as well do it here.”

That much was obvious, there was paper spread out in front of him covered in scrawls that he was trying to decipher because fucking hell, some people really couldn’t-

“What kind of work?” Tommy wouldn’t have asked Alfie that if he had stuff in front of him, but, he had to remind himself, that Alfie was an opportunist and a bastard.

“S’not your business.”

“Hm. Still don’t trust me?”

“No.”

Alfie grinned. “Good.”

There was a pause as Tommy took a drag from the cigarette. Alfie followed the movement with far too much attention, didn’t even pretend he wasn’t looking. Had no shame. 

“Well, don’t let me interrupt your work yeah? Keep me waiting.”

Huh. “How have I kept you waiting, eh? Got here before nine at least. You’re early though.”

“S’my house, mate. I come and go as I fucking want.”

“And you aren’t worried that someone will see you? Coming and going as you want.”

“Nah this house here is well fucking protected, not even my men know where it is. It’s the difference between me and you, everyone knows about the Shelby fucking household but they do not enter ‘cause-”

“Because Birmingham is a shithole.”

“Actually, mate, what I was gonna say, yeah, is that your house,” Alfie sat down on the sofa across from him, his jacket hung somewhere in the hallway, and leaned against it with his arms coming to a rest on the back of the sofa, “is packed to the fucking brim with people, one being your brother and the risk of brushing against him outweighs any and all advantages of a tactical move, don’t it?”

“Not even at the chance of meeting me?”

Alfie grinned at that, and Tommy had the feeling he liked when he was vain. 

“I would usually agree with you, but, right, are you there now? Exactly. I will say though, that I like you more than I despise him.”

“You like me?”

“Parts of you.” Yeah, bastard. 

“And yet, even though you don’t like all of me, you have allowed me into your house, eh? Which, according to you, not even your men know about.”

“They could sell me out.”

“And I wouldn’t?”

“Well would you be willing to tell the good people of the Shelby Company how exactly you stumbled upon my humble fucking abode, mate?”

“They wouldn’t ask.”

“No? Tell you what, sweetie,” He leaned in now, and Tommy became acutely aware of how close the armchair and the sofa was, or just how close Alfie was, really, “If that is your price, my fucking demise, in return for what I have gotten out of Mr Shelby, then it might just be worth it.”

Tommy stayed silent. Didn’t know what to say to that.

Alfie leaned in slightly further and Tommy made a concerted effort to stay still.

“That my soap on you?”

That he could reply to. “Fuck off.”

“Mm, gotta say, I do like my smell on you.”

“Alfie.”

“Did you do this specifically because you thought we were gonna fuck?”

Tommy glared at him, the smug bastard, and Alfie still hadn’t moved, he was just as close so Tommy tilted his head at him, “Aren’t we?”

It was satisfying watch Alfie’s eyes dart to his lips before returning to his eyes.

“Depends, don’t it, on whether you will be pulling a move like this again. Disappearing.”

“You told me, Alfie, this morning, that nothing would stop you from giving me up.”

“That’s right, innit, it is, however I would only ever do it in situations, right, from which you can bounce back. What makes you think I’d let some other fucking idiot ruin you?”

Alfie brought his hand up to Tommy’s face, thumb sliding across his lower lip.

“Rest assured, Mr Solomons,” Alfie gripped his face slightly harder at that, “that they wouldn’t be able to, and you wouldn’t either.”

“That’s all well and good, Tommy, but will you let me try?”

He’d rather shoot Alfie right now than let him do anything even remotely close to trying to ruin him again.

“You don’t believe that you wouldn’t be able to, do you? I’m a gambling man though Mr Solomons.”

“That right?”

“Yeah.”

Alfie let his grip slacken and kissed him.


	3. bad men don't have inhibitions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take a wild guess at what this contains.

It had been a month, Tommy knew that, logically, because the clocks had ticked and every day there was some new disaster to deal with, each worse than the last. Like the fact that people were losing petty cash, it wasn’t bad on that scale but people might fucking think it was okay and someone would bring his business to ruin, he knew it. Or, even fucking worse, Arthur had found some woman who was bringing him to the light. He thinks her name was Linda. He’d told John he couldn’t drink himself to ruin one night and John had looked at him like he’d grown another head.

Yeah, it had been a long fucking time since he’d seen Alfie. Didn’t feel like that though. Not when he was trailing his lips along his collarbone and holding the rest of him flush against his chest. Felt like it had been far longer. It also felt like Alfie had had him held in this position for far too long.

“Alfie, fucking move.”

Alfie pulled back slightly, and for once, he was the one wearing less clothes, his chest exposed with his shirt discarded somewhere. Tommy would have known where if he hadn’t been pulled back in by the back of his neck. 

“Why? Feeling impatient, sweetie?”

Alfie smirked and pulled him in slightly by the hips. Fuck, he was hard, and Alfie could fucking feel it, there was no way he couldn’t. Not like this.

He didn’t want to look at him.

“What is so fucking fascinating about the ceiling then, hm? I’ve been living here for years but clearly I haven’t unlocked the secrets to this fucking house. Don’t know what I’d do if you got a big fucking house, you’d stare at the walls for days, drive me to fucking insanity.”

“You’re already insane, Alfie. You don’t need help from me.”

“Hm, well, Tommy, I think we’re past this, yeah? No need to be fucking shy and looking away. I don’t think you’re a virgin.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Tommy looked down now, suitably annoyed enough to let his anger overcome his fucking inhibition. Didn’t even need rum for it.

“No no, mate, I’ve become far too fucking used to the luxury of fucking you, ain’t I?” Alfie pulled him down slightly and he could feel Alfie’s erection digging into him, it was fucking insistent. “But it is a luxury that I have been deprived of so I am here, right, to take it fucking back. That alright then, Mr Shelby?”

He didn’t know what he would have said to that but then Alfie pulled him in slightly harder and Tommy rocked into it, which Alfie smirked at, again. Fuck him.

“No.”

“No? Right, so when you asked me to move that was just a game, eh Tommy?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm.” Tommy could feel the vibration of the sound and tried to contain the sudden rush of arousal at the heightened awareness of the fact that he was so close to Alfie. For fuck’s sake, they were both still half dressed. 

“Tell you what, mate, seeing as you don’t want me moving, and ’s all a game, how’s about you be the one to move. Per your own wishes. Won’t even touch you.” Alfie rested his elbows on the back of the sofa and watched him, relaxed. 

“What happened to taking it fucking back, eh?”

“Why should I take what you will willingly give, hm? Go on Tommy, you can do it. I have faith in you.” 

He wasn’t going to do anything, Alfie didn’t deserve the satisfaction.

Alfie brought his finger up to his jaw, his touch was soft and Tommy tried not to shiver, to lean into it. 

“Oh you are gorgeous aren’t you? Part of me feels bad, Tommy, can you believe it,” his voice was so soft, “me, feeling bad, because here I am,” it was like honey, and his words were fucking sticking, “keeping you from wherever it is you need to be, holding you here, and the other part of me, let’s call it the stronger part, doesn’t feel bad at all, because looking at you coming undone is the closest I have come to believing in God, though do not tell any other holy people about that. If I were to put you in front of them, they’d understand, but I am not inclined to be fucking selfless because that is an action reserved for the good people, Tommy, and me and you, we’re not good men. Let yourself go.”

Tommy leaned in, and Alfie just watched him, fixated but unmoving, and Tommy let himself kiss him. Slowly. Gently. Too fucking soft. He couldn’t allow this softness. Didn’t deserve it. 

But Alfie said they weren’t good men. Did that mean they were bad men? Maybe, just fucking maybe, as a bad man, he could take what he wanted. Remorse was wasted on the wicked.

He wrapped his arms around Alfie’s neck, hands reaching to grip his hair, and Alfie let his lips part. Tommy took that for what it was, an invitation, and pushed himself forwards.  
“Alfie.” His voice came out breathier than he’d expected but Alfie clearly fucking responded to it because he gripped his hips like they were some sort of lifeline.

“Would you like me to take what I’m owed?” Tommy took some satisfaction in hearing Alfie’s slightly rougher voice and just nodded, absently.

“Hm, good.” Tommy could hardly register what that meant before Alfie surged forwards and kissed him with all the fucking fervour of a man that was starved.

Alfie stood up and took Tommy with him, guiding him towards the staircase.

“Want me in your bed then, Alfie?”

“I’ll have time to fuck you like a whore later, Tommy, but yeah, bed. And get all this fucking off of you, yeah? For me.”

Tommy convinced himself that his urgency wasn’t because of Alfie’s fucking order and stripped himself, watching as each item of clothing draped itself against a step.

“You’re still dressed, Alfie.”

“Am I?”

Alfie had Tommy against the wall before he could inform him that yeah, he was still fucking covered from the waist down, but then Alfie pushed him slightly upwards and made him wrap his legs around him. 

Tommy moaned at the sensation, bare legs pressed against Alfie’s skin. 

“Sweet, aren’t you?”

“Fuck off.”

Tommy pushed himself off of the wall and then tried desperately not to think about how this now meant Alfie was carrying him, through the bedroom door, until he pressed him into the mattress and crawled over him, pushing him into the sheets, letting his tongue slowly part his lips before taking his lower lip between his teeth and rolling it between them.

“Alfie.”

He pulled away and watched him with a reverence that looked fucking terrifying.

“Take off your fucking trousers.”

“Mm, all for the fucking king then, yeah?” Alfie had slammed the door shut and taken off the last of his clothing, and Tommy watched him, feeling the sudden sensation of goosebumps. It wasn’t even that cold. 

Alfie looked dishevelled, they hadn’t even done anything yet, and Tommy burned with an anticipation that he didn’t know he could even feel. Alfie looked so much better in real life than he did in his nightmares.

“Get on your hands and knees.”

Tommy felt slightly winded at the request, they hadn’t done it like that before, but he obliged because this was Alfie. Alfie wouldn’t pull something he didn’t like. Not here.

“You look like a fucking picture, sweetie, I mean that.”

Tommy felt something cold sliding between his legs before Alfie ran a finger along his rim, pushing in gently and crooking it slightly. His breathing went shallow.

Alfie worked another finger in and started to angle it so that it hit his prostate and Tommy didn’t know what fucking sound he’d make at that so he let his head fall until his mouth pressed into the mattress.

He heard some shuffling behind him and then the familiar sensation of Alfie pulling his fingers out to line himself with his hole.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine, just go.”

Alfie hummed at that, didn’t seem pleased that Tommy was hiding, but not too unhappy because he could still feel him against his thigh, hard as a fucking rock now. 

He pushed in slowly, and Tommy’s knees buckled at the sensation, almost forgotten how Alfie could make him feel. He pressed his face harder into the mattress.

“That won’t do, will it?”

Alfie grabbed his hips and pushed in until he was buried at the hilt and Tommy nearly fucking whined.

“Why you hiding then, sweetie?”

Alfie bent downwards, Tommy could feel it because the angle inside of him changed and he tried to hide himself but Alfie gently lifted his face up.

“Don’t hide, yeah?”

Tommy tried his fucking best. He started with his hands braced against the mattress, but then he was on his elbows, which only had him arching further. Alfie had groaned at that and Tommy had felt weak.

Alfie grabbed his waist at one point and pushed him back until he was up against his prostate and just kept him there. Tommy couldn’t support himself like that, letting his head fall against the mattress again. Alfie pulled him in again, this time until his back was flush against his chest. The angle was unbearable.

Alfie wrapped his arm around his chest and Tommy gripped onto it with both hands.

Tommy let his head fall back against Alfie’s shoulder and was vaguely aware that both of them were covered in a sheen of sweat.

“You alright there, Tommy?” Alfie sounded breathless and Tommy was thankful for the reminder that he was in fact a fucking human. He could feel Alfie’s chest rapidly expanding and collapsing behind him.

“Yeah, I just, just wanted to fucking see you Alfie, ‘m sorry I didn’t, fuck,” he felt slightly delirious, incoherent, but Alfie gripped him tighter and Tommy let out a groan of relief, “didn’t mean to, just, don’t know. This feels nice.”

“Fuck me, you’re a hazard.” Alfie was muttering to himself and he let Tommy go and started to pull out. Tommy whined at the loss and Alfie turned him around. Easily. Like he weighed nothing.

“You should see yourself. S’fucking indecent, Tommy.”

“Why’d you… why’d you uh,” Tommy could feel some of his senses come back, “pull out.”

“Just wanted to see how you looked. S’worth it. Fucking hell,” Alfie reached his hand forwards and ran his finger along Tommy’s lower lip, letting his thumb slip past his teeth and rub circles onto his tongue.

Tommy reached for it and pulled it back out. 

“You got some sort of fixation for my mouth then, Alfie?”

“You can hardly fucking blame me, all those fucking cigarettes, smoke provides a lovely little frame for your face, Tommy, lips included.”

Alfie leaned in to kiss him and Tommy took the opportunity to wrap his legs back around Alfie.

“Alfie I-”

“Yeah, I know.”

But he didn’t fucking know, because Tommy hadn’t known what he was going to say, and he didn’t have time to think on it either, because Alfie pushed in again and his mind went blank. 

He gripped onto Alfie’s shoulders and let his head fall back.

“Look at you, s’amazing what you become when you’re getting fucked.”

Tommy pushed against Alfie’s shoulders and he went easily.

“Don’t fucking say that.”

“You disagree?”

He did disagree, and he was going to say that he fucking disagreed, but Alfie decided that when Tommy opened his mouth would be a good time to push into him, harder.

“Fuck you.”

“I’m certainly fucking trying.”

Tommy let out a laugh at that, couldn’t fucking help it, slightly fucked out of his mind.

“Well clearly not hard enough, eh Alfie? Don’t tell me you’re getting fucking tired.”

Alfie didn’t choose to respond to that, just started fucking him again with a renewed force and Tommy had no other option than to just take it. 

“You can touch yourself. Go on.”

Tommy wanted to snarl at him, didn’t need his fucking permission, but he reached down between his legs anyways and nearly hissed at the contact, oversensitive and on edge. How long had it been?

“Did you want my permission to start moving too? Can’t be too hard Tommy, come on.”

Tommy glared at him, but was too tired to give a verbal response so he just let Alfie still and started stroking himself, letting breathy moans escape him. Alfie’s eyes had gone almost completely black.

“Did you want permission to move, Alfie?”

Alfie laughed at that, seemingly delighted to have his own words used against him, before sinking into him again and the two started moving in sync.

Tommy came first, feeling the release in waves, and collapsing back into the mattress, too fucked to move as Alfie rutted into him. Alfie pulled him into a searing kiss as he came and Tommy gripped onto him, letting himself be used.

They couldn’t move for ages afterwards. There was nothing except for the sound of them catching their breaths and eventually Alfie pulled out and Tommy nearly cried, didn’t know why. 

Alfie knelt down to kiss him gently, on the cheek, the forehead, the temples, before collapsing next to him and pulling him closer.

“Alfie, we fucking reek.”

“Mm.”

“We need to wash this off us.”

“Yeah, yeah, after though. Let yourself relax, Tommy. Or is it just ‘cause it’s me that you can’t?”

“No, I- Just a little on edge. This helped though.”

“That right? I’m a man of many talents.”

“Shut up.”

“Anything for you. Can I kiss you?”

Tommy found a little energy in himself to glare up at Alfie, who just smiled. He sighed and leaned in and as Alfie slowly wrapped his arms around him, Tommy wondered if he’d felt this at ease before.


End file.
